


Child Of Sand And Sun

by RiddleMeEvil



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin should not be swimming alone ever, Anakin's First Bath, Anakin's First Thunderstorm, CPR, Descriptions of drowning and being submerged without oxygen, Drowning, Flashbacks, Jedi cuddles, Jedi in love, M/M, Mild cute couple teasing, Mostly Fluff, Obi-Wan deserves a medal, Obi-Wan needs to be given a break, Obi-Wan to the rescue again, Padawan Ani and Knight Obi Bonding, Romance, Slavery is scarring, Snuggling, Some angst, Tatooine kids need swimming lessons just like everyone else, The Force, anakin is terrified to waste water, attachments- OH NO, chest pain, cuteness, dying, grieving Obi-Wan, its casual use is literally scary to baby Ani, obikin, obviously, poor kid, thank the Force for Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleMeEvil/pseuds/RiddleMeEvil
Summary: He never told Obi-Wan he couldn't swim. Looking back, this was a very bad decision.





	Child Of Sand And Sun

It was ironic, really. A fitting end to the one known as the Hero with no Fear.

The Chosen One of the Jedi Order, the one born of the Force, dead of the very thing he had once revered, prayed for daily as a child... The thing every being in the galaxy relied on, the substance he'd been given so little of for the first nine years of his life, what he'd been forced to work for hours to gain only a small cup— then the Jedi came, and swept him off to Coruscant, where the life giving liquid was not only free but kept in such large quantities his young mind could barely comprehend it.

How could there be so much of it, when back home there was so little, so many dying of thirst while millions of beings here had such an endless supply within arms' reach at all times? Anakin couldn't understand it, only accepted his new situation and home with not a small amount of guilt— made even more so whenever he passed a decorative fountain or watched a Youngling carelessly slosh their glass, spilling precious drops to the floor.

•----•

He kicked his legs weakly, their weight somehow heavier than normal, and his head broke the surface. He gasped for air but a wave crashed down, pulling him back under the crushing water. He sank down, so far down...

Terror took over his being, his body desperately trying to reach the surface once more, but the water kept relentlessly dragging him down, crushing him from all sides.

•----•

When he and Master Obi-Wan had first come home to the Temple from that awful, nightmare of a mission to Naboo— the one that left Master Obi-Wan in tears, agony tearing through their fledgling Bond in the dark hours of the night and half choked off screams of Master Qui-Gon's name jerking both Master and Padawan from sleep; leaving them to stumble around like the undead for days, weeks afterwards, barely able to function... Obi-Wan from his all consuming grief and the pain his strong facade caused him and Anakin from his terror of this huge new place where so much was expected of him, so much was different and he was free but nothing he did was _right_ — Master Obi-Wan had drawn him a bath, patting him wordlessly on the shoulder and sweeping away into what was once Qui-Gon's room, now his.

Anakin had been left alone in the alien room, staring with unabashed horror and complete awe at the full tub. His mind was screaming at him to conserve it, hide it away in bottles wherever he could so that he'd never run out, never waste this, so he grabbed the cup standing by the sink and moved to quickly fill it— but as the hand holding the cup dipped into the bath he jerked in shock.

The water was _warm_ , a different kind of warm from the warmth of sitting in the sun all day— no, this warm was different, soothing yet terrifying, a warm that would penetrate deep into his muscles and bones and leave him— dare he think it?— refreshed; relaxed and with the soreness from his day's work gone, massaged out by the beautiful heat of this liquid that Obi-Wan left for him to bathe in. He released the cup, tearing away his dirty clothes and dropping them to the floor, hesitantly stepping into the tub and gasping at the heat.

He glanced furtively around as he sank into the bath, terrified that someone would jump out and yell at him, strike him down for wasting this precious, precious liquid on his dirty slave body. No one came and he gradually relaxed, a sense of calm he'd never before felt stealing over his mind. He was sitting waist deep in warm water, water Obi-Wan had drawn up _especially_ for him, and he wasn't going to waste it.

He took a cloth hanging from the side and slathered what he was pretty sure was soap onto it— it smelled just like Master Obi-Wan did, so he was probably right— and then he carefully scrubbed as much of himself as he could reach. He struggled a little bit with his back, but he figured it out eventually, and soon there was a perfectly clean, dripping wet Padawan in the place of slave Anakin Skywalker. He had forgotten the outside world, forgotten everything but this surreal moment in his life.

After what felt like hours he stood, regretfully stepping out and wrapping one of the huge, fluffy towels around his tiny body and tip toeing into the hall, towards Obi-Wan's room.

He knocked carefully on the door. "Master Obi-Wan?" His voice shook a little— this was still so new to him. "Master, what do I do with the leftover water?"

There was shuffling behind the door and a sniffling noise and it slide open, Obi-Wan silhouetted in the dim light. "Drain it, Padawan.." He said quietly, his voice hoarse. Anakin's brow wrinkled but he nodded, turning back to do as he was told. He glanced back at Obi-Wan but he'd already closed the door, so Anakin walked hesitantly back to the bathroom. He stared at the tub, hands clutching his towel.

Drain it? What a waste!! But... It was dirty, now, he told himself, pulling up the plug before he lost his nerve. _Master Obi-Wan told me to_. He headed back down the hall, into his room, and ignored the guilt clawing at his throat.

He'd grown used to the waste, his guilty cringing at the amounts of the liquid gradually diminishing as he grew older, but his stomach still flipped whenever it was spilled.

•----•

The salt of the water stung his eyes but he kept them open, locked on the slowly disappearing light above. Bubbles floated over his head, lightly making their carefree way to the surface— how he wished he could do so as easily!!!

But his robes were full of water, weighted down as if with heavy stones, and his hands— clumsy with lack of oxygen and the panic that consumed him— were not coordinated enough to untie them.

•----•

His first thunderstorm was even more memorable, coming a few months after he moved into the Temple— Obi-Wan had walked out to their balcony to see every pot, cup, and pan they owned sitting outside, dirty clothes hanging over the rail and Anakin resolutely standing half naked in the rain, jumping in terror every time the thunder sounded.

He'd held a bar of soap and a wash cloth, and Obi-Wan had laughed and explained that there was no need for this, that they really had an endless supply and Anakin needn't worry about saving the water pouring from the sky— nor should he be bathing on their balcony for all of Coruscant to see, Obi-Wan had admonished, a twinkle in his eyes.

Confused but accepting of his Master's words he'd reentered their apartment, changing into dry clothes and snuggling into the couch, watching a holovid until the storm passed.

•----•

There was a crushing weight on his chest, his legs had stopped moving. He couldn't breathe, the icy water was piercing him from all sides, and he finally accepted the inevitable. His eyes closed, and he floated, drifting limply through the water.

•----•

They'd never thought to teach him to swim, at the Temple. The Younglings grew up knowing, all Jedi could swim by the age of six— being taught from a young age in the Temple's wide pools. It was a simple oversight, one made by a grieving, harried young Master with a Padawan from the desert— and the child never thought of it, too in awe of his surroundings. He learned breathing techniques, of course; he played in the pools with the other children, but not once was it noticed how he never ventured in farther than his shoulders.

As he grew older, he learned to mask his 'disability' as he thought of it, using the Force to buoy himself when he needed it and carefully linking himself to his Master when he could...

But the Force can only hold out for so long against the might of the sea, and a weakening body weakens the connection.

•----•

He floated limply in the sea, the stabbing cold slowly turning to pulsing, all consuming warmth, his mind drawing out his final moments. He was taking his first bath, elated and terrified all at once and Obi-Wan in the next room, no— he was swimming with Obi-Wan in the shallow pool at the Temple, and they were laughing and splashing at each other.. but no, he was plunging into a cold river to escape a bounty hunter, Obi-Wan a limp weight over his shoulder and terror for their lives flowing through his veins as he grasped desperately for the Force—

His lungs were burning, his chest compressing painfully in on itself... Everything was so heavy and his head spinning from lack of oxygen, and he retreated farther into his mind— the deepest, most intimate part of himself.

He didn't know where he was, but he was alone; he couldn't sense— who was it that was always there? The beautiful, addictive and warmly caressing presence always in his mind.. He couldn't feel it, couldn't remember.

He couldn't bring himself to feel more than a fleeting feeling of regret— that he'd never feel the sun on his skin or the wind tousling his hair, never feel the heady, glorious rush of adrenaline that flying locked deep in his gut... Never again see Obi-Wan smile lovingly with sparkling eyes and brush his fingers through the red-gold hair atop his Master's head, or hold the small, compact and perfect body close against his own— but even that was too much, so he reluctantly released the regret and let it drift away into the dark, silent depths.

He didn't know how long he'd been here, submerged and floating between the light above and the dark below; only knew— with the last functioning part of his mind that was rapidly fading away— that this was it, there was no more.. His life, short and exciting and emotion filled as it was and always had been, was finished.

His muscles and limbs were unresponsive to his prodding, the Force seemed infinitely far away.. His lips parted and he gasped futilely, breathing in water— only water, searching for the air he needed so desperately but feeling only heavier as his lungs slowly filled and his body sank even deeper below the waves, the murky darkness slowly and inexorably claiming him for its own.

A final burst of pain from his chest, an agony he couldn't begin to describe and his consciousness seemed to detach from his body. He could feel— could see— a Light moving towards him... And he welcomed it, the pale Light of Death coming for him now, accepted it into his soul and readying himself for the great unknown— but the Light suddenly faded, and another took its place. This Light was familiar, too familiar to be Death, and moving swiftly in his direction, intent on reaching his soul before it could travel too far into the wide depths of the Force to forever drown within— as his body would in the sea below.

A slight burning sensation filtered back to him and he cringed away, praying that the Light would leave him to die, finish this transition in peace— but the Light twined around his own, pulling him back down, and Death was farther away, and he could feel the burning pressure intensifying once again—

Agony exploded in his chest, his body seizing and desperate for air, but something was different. There was a sudden pressure around his wrist, pressing over the pulse for a long moment, and then he was being dragged up, up, back towards the light of day. His head broke the surface, strong arms wrapping around his ribs and powerful legs kicking, a whisper of the Force surrounding him and his rescuer to speed them back to shore.

He wanted to slip away, fade back into the darkness he'd been a part of for those few glorious, pain free moments, but there was a brush of coarse and wet hair over his cheek accompanied by soft— slightly chapped— lips, a gentle voice urging him to stay awake for just a little longer... So he complied, coughing weakly and feebly trying to move his limbs.

An undeterminable amount of time passed and then there was the scrape of sand and pebbles against his feet and legs, his rescuer's breath coming in short, heaving pants as her dragged Anakin to lay halfway out of the water.

The man collapsed beside him, a trembling hand carding through his hair and then cupping his cheek. A trembling hand pinched his nose, wet lips forced his mouth open— breathing air into his agonized lungs— and suddenly he could breathe. " _Anakin_.." He heard distantly above him, as if he were still floating in his watery grave.

"Anakin, dear one, open your _eyes_ -!"

The voice was so desperate and heartbroken, so terribly crushed that his heart clenched in his chest and he forced his eyes to move, the lids fluttering delicately to blink open.

The first thing he was aware of was the stunning pair of sea green eyes gazing wildly into his own, water trickling down the beloved face hovering above him. A distant part of his mind noted that he was lying halfway in the water, drenched in sea and salt and sand, his rescuer— his Master— collapsed beside him and soaked through, his terror ringing out loudly in the Force.

He forced his lips to move— everything was responding so _slowly_ , it was so frustrating— and a feeble moan made it past, quickly followed by a coughing fit. He coughed and rasped painfully for agonizing minutes, salt and water tearing at his throat and lungs and impossibly gentle hands rubbing his back and stomach, familiar arms rocking him back against a broad chest.

He heaved for the long denied air, breaths huge and gulping despite the pain that surged through his chest with each one, and through it all his Master— Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan— held him.

Finally his coughing ceased and he fell back, relaxing against Obi-Wan's muscular chest with his head resting limply on the Master's shoulder, soaked golden curls plastered to his head and neck. Obi-Wan murmured soothing words, quiet, gentle reassurances into his ear, punctuated by a soft, wet kiss to his cheek every few moments. Anakin's breathing slowly calmed, the majority of the water forcibly expelled from his lungs, and soon he had the strength to twist and throw a trembling arm over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

The Master adjusted to hold Anakin to his heart and smiled down at him, worry and paralyzing fear and relief painted clearly on his face. "Oh, Anakin.." He chuckled quietly, a finger trailing down the damp cheek. "I thought I lost you, there."

Anakin huffed, his own lips curving into a tiny smile filled with relief and bravado. "L-lose me? To _water_? Obi-Wan," He grinned, coughing lightly once more. "How w-weak do you think I am? That's j-just pathetic.."

His teeth chattering, he burrowed into the older Jedi for warmth, and Obi-Wan heaved himself off the wet and sandy ground, Anakin clutched carefully in his arms. "That is, isn't it," He agreed in relief, pressing another kiss— his beautifully rough beard rubbing Anakin's skin in all the right ways— to the Knight's forehead.

"I'll be sure to not tell anyone then. We wouldn't want your reputation to be damaged because of this little... incident. But perhaps..." He trailed off with a teasing smirk, masking the lingering terror and despair he'd felt when he'd found Anakin in the water— he'd just been floating, motionless, cold and soaked through, _Force_ , so pale and with his hair floating around his head in a pale gold halo— and he shook water from his eyes as he trudged through the sand back up the beach.

Anakin looked up at him with huge eyes, water dripping down his still too pale face, and a somewhat disoriented prod through the Force towards Obi-Wan's mind, trying to see if he was serious. "N-no!!" He spluttered, weak arms grasping convulsively at Obi-Wan's tunics. "I'll— Wait.."

He squinted suspiciously up at Obi-Wan, who let out a burst of relieved, slightly hysterical laughter, pausing his strides to bury his face in Anakin's wet curls. "You know I'd not, Anakin.." He chuckled quietly, and Anakin closed his eyes, humming regretfully.

"I do know. And I'm sorry I went swimming without you."

Obi-Wan shook his head, the mirth fading from his face and replaced by the real, paralyzingly terror he'd felt. He held Anakin firmly to his chest.

"I didn't.. I thought you knew— How did I miss it? All these years together and I missed something so crucial.." He berated himself, averting his gaze in shame from Anakin, who raised a gentle hand to his cheek.

"Oh, Obi-Wan," He said, voice warm and steadier than it had been. "You didn't— this isn't your fault! I never _told_  you. I thought it'd be okay. And then... I didn't know how far I'd drifted until it was almost too late."

Obi-Wan didn't answer for a few minutes, moving towards their vacation cottage, and as they crossed the yard he finally let his head be guided towards Anakin's. The Knight smiled at him, lips still slightly blue from the water and droplets sprinkled over his skin, and Obi-Wan sniffed, sitting down hard on the front steps.

"I still should've known, Anakin, and I didn't and I almost lost you today because I didn't _know_ —!"

Anakin pressed a light kiss to his lips, cutting off his words and sending a pulse of calm into the older Jedi's mind. He pulled away, beaming up exhaustedly at his Master. "Don't blame yourself, alright? I should've told you, and I shouldn't have gone alone either way."

Obi-Wan bit his lip and nodded slowly, and Anakin smiled.

"Good. Now that we've straightened that out, shut up and kiss me, because I'm tired and I want kisses before I sleep."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at his demands, swooping down to obligingly kiss warmth— love, life— back into his Knight, but paused. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Your lungs.. You shouldn't be doing anything of the sort right now.."

Anakin huffed and rolled his eyes, his hand curling around the nape of the Master's neck. "Obi-Wan, _please_ , Force, just get down here!"

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on the soaked figure in his arms, leaning closer with a teasing sigh. Anakin beamed, head tilting up and lips parting to accept Obi-Wan's— and Obi-Wan's lips captured his, caressing and tasting and soothing away the harshness of the salt, pouring warmth where there had been ice. Anakin fisted a hand in his Master's hair, holding him close, and Obi-Wan chuckled against his mouth, his mind caressing Anakin's just as affectionately as he kissed him.

Anakin sighed, slowly breaking the kiss— Obi-Wan was right, his lungs couldn't take the separation from air for that long just yet— and turned mockingly disapproving eyes to his Master. "You— Why, Master Kenobi, who _ever_  taught you to ravish your student in public like that—"

Obi-Wan let a smile appear on his face, pressing another lingering kiss to the damp forehead. "Let me think, now," He said teasingly. "I think— oh, let me see— it may have been said student, _begging_  me to ravish him because he just _couldn't_ wait any longer.."

He paused, looking down at Anakin, whose upturned face was beaming— eyes sparkling, but lips still too blue for Obi-Wan's taste. His smile faded a bit, and he tightened his hold on the younger man. "Let's get you inside, dear one. It's too cold for a soaking wet Tatooine native out here." He stood, strong arms bearing his former apprentice's weight easily, and entered the home.

Anakin was placed on the couch, the Master fetching a fresh pair of clothes and a thick blanket before returning. "Arms up," He instructed, and Anakin obediently raised them, his soaked tunic being stripped off and relaxed with a soft and dry one. This was repeated with his trousers and Obi-Wan stood up, wrapping the blanket tightly around the Knight with a smile. "Better?"

"Better," Responded Anakin, smiling tiredly up at him. Obi-Wan grinned softly back and moved to drop the clothes into the laundry, changing into his own dry clothes and finally sliding onto the couch beside Anakin.

The Knight instantly snuggled against him, golden, half dried curls resting over Obi-Wan's heart, and his arms slid around the lean body with a sigh. Less than a minute later, Anakin was out, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Obi-Wan's heart beneath his ear and the faint crashing of waves outside. Obi-Wan grinned, fingers brushing the curls back from his sleeping lover's face.

Even after being half drowned Anakin was beautiful, he mused, reverently caressing the smooth cheek. But then, Anakin was _always_ beautiful— the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. Obi-Wan could hardly stand it, sometimes, knowing how such a gorgeous and perfect being was willingly and happily his, his to love and cherish always.. However, then he'd remind himself that he was Anakin's as Anakin was his, and there was nothing that could ever change that.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I can somehow see Obi-Wan overlooking this in his grief for Qui-Gon.. He'd not think, 'Oh wait, this kid I'm training- unlike all the other kids in the Temple ever- can't swim'....  
> Could just be me though.  
> Whatever, it makes for a fun writing experience so- creative license has been used!!!! Haha :) Hope you enjoyed it!!


End file.
